


I see it all (now that you're gone)

by watchforthorns



Series: a dash of miracle [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Coming of Age, Getting Back Together, Growing Up, Long-Distance Relationship, Multi, Online Relationship, Park Jisung (NCT)-centric, Post-Break Up, Witches, mainly just 97-01 kids, mentions of stray kids the boyz and wanna one, renjun the therapist makes a comeback
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2019-08-25 01:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16652083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watchforthorns/pseuds/watchforthorns
Summary: Jisung doesn’t know what lead him to join SMU's Neo Culture Team. Maybe it was cause he wanted to be more cultured about the supernatural world. Or maybe he just wanted to feel connected to Chenle now that he was gone. He didn't think anything would change, really. But it did.Jisung joined, shit went down, and now he's royally screwed.(the sequel to when the lights come on)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You can probably follow along without reading the prequel, but it'd make a lot more sense if you did.

Jisung, nineteen and starting his first year of college, decided a little too late that taking that dance scholarship to SMU was probably the stupidest decision of his life.

 

The realization, of course, hits when he’s dragging a heavily drunk, even more heavily lovesick Donghyuck back to his and Mark’s apartment. On his own, he might add, no slightly superhuman Renjun or abnormally strong Jaemin to help. No, they’d gotten shitfaced off their asses and left Jisung to deal with the problem himself. No doubt the two vamps were sneaking their tipsy asses into Jenos dorm, again, and managing to scare the living shit out of his roommate, again.

 

Poor Seungmin.

 

It was nearly two am when Jisung finally wrangled Hyuck into his apartment, slamming the door loudly behind him. It managed to wake Mark, who’d passed out over what looked to be music theory homework - according to the faded notes inked onto his face, at least. The boy jolted up, slamming a knee onto the underside of the kitchen table. He cursed, something in English that Jisung tucked away in his mind and would oh-so-innocently bring up in front of Johnny just to spite his favorite Canadian hyung.

 

“What happened?” Mark asked, scrambling to get up.

 

Jisung just let go of Donghyuck, who crumbled to the ground in a pile of limbs and drool and “bluuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh.” A perfect example of what happened after too many Jager bombs, really.

 

Mark squeaked and dropped to his knees, prodding Donghyuck’s shoulder with a finger to see if he was still alive. The younger boy creaked his eyes open, took in Mark’s face, and let out a stream of giggles, followed by a burp and a dry heave.

 

“Johnny-hyung happened,” Jisung huffed. “Now go tuck this idiot in while I text my roommate that I’m staying over.” Mark glanced up at him, confused. “It’s two in the morning, hyung. I’m not walking back to the dorms.” His dancers living-learning community was on the fifth floor of a building that was honestly too far away from Mark and Donghyuck’s student apartment for his liking, and Donghyuck owed him for getting his trashed ass back safe and sound.

 

Jisung sighed, nudging Donghyuck with his toe. “Now deal with this idiot and get me a blanket for the couch.”

 

Mark rolled his eyes at Jisung’s tone, lifting Donghyuck onto his back and stumbling towards the said boy’s room. “I’m your hyung,” he grumbled. “Show some respect.”

 

“Not gonna happen,” Jisung mumbled. “Not while you’ve got ‘twinkle twinkle little dick’ printed across your nose.” Hyuck, still too drunk to even read, happened to find that bit of hyperbolic humor absolutely hilarious, laughing so hard he threw up over Mark’s shoulder. 

 

Mark screamed. Donghyuck laughed even more. Jisung just retreated to the couch, phone already in hand.

  
  


___

  
  


Jisung had expected college to be more … hectic that it actually was. Maybe it had to do with his mom freaking out over him moving into the dorms, or maybe it was because he’d read too many Reddit pages about adapting to “college life,” but, surprisingly, college was easier than expected.

 

For starters, everyone in the group went to SMU.

 

Mark was studying composition and Donghyuck had hopes of becoming a vocal coach for their old high school, so he was going through this really weird, specific major Jisung kept forgetting the name of.  Jaemin was studying entertainment management and Jeno was looking into becoming a trainer specifically for dancers, which was apparently different than being a coach, but honestly Jisung didn’t really care enough to try to figure out all the tiny bits and pieces. 

 

Renjun was with Jisung in dance, that was a plus, but he’d already passed the first-year classes, so Jisung was alone for both his major-specific courses and his gen-eds. But at least his teachers were cool, and his roommate wasn’t all that bad, so there was definitely a plus side. Then there was the fact that one of his teachers, Gikwang, had offered him a part-time job as a coach at the youth dance center his friend Hoya ran. So he had a bit of spending money on the side and got to work with some of the only likable twelve-year-olds in Korea.

 

It was honestly a dream come true.

 

So, yeah, college wasn’t that hard, at least not in the way Jisung had been expecting it. It was just that, sometimes, he couldn’t help but feel lonely. It was cheesy, and he hated talking to his hyungs about it, but he still missed Chenle. Like, really missed him, so much that sometimes he’d just stare at his phone, hoping, praying, that Chenle would call, message, just do something to show that he was still alive.

 

Then he’d make a post on Insta with his mom or aunt or somebody, and Jisung would hesitantly like it seconds after it was posted, then spend the next two days in his bed as a burrito, much to his roommate's glee - burrito-sung meant dramatic interventions, and Jisung’s roommate loved drama. Most of the time it would take Renjun nearly taking the dorm door off the hinges, practically foaming at the mouth as he yelled at Jisung to get off his flat ass and talk it out before his stupid lovesickness killed him.

 

“You’re the kind of ex that people write in fanfics,” he would seeth, pulling Jisung out of the room by his ear. “Disgusting. What are you, a fourteen-year-old?” Then he would yell at Jisung to get to class before he called Mrs. Park.

 

Jisung’s roommate absolutely loved it, said it was better than any reality television ever.

 

Jisung’s ears begged to differ.

 

Renjun had eventually found out about his and Chenle’s relationship, it was obvious after he’d asked about Hong Kong, but what Jisung hadn’t expected was the overwhelming support he’d gotten from everyone else a month or so afterwards. Apparently, Renjun had finally caved to his boyfriends. It wasn’t pretty, Jisung had caught a glimpse of it when they were all at Jaehyun’s for a party, and by the time he’d managed to wiggle himself out of the situation, any and all resentment towards the boy, realized or not, had disappeared.

 

Renjun was just as distraught about the situation as Jisung, and if what Jaemin had talked to Jisung about was true, then the vamp blamed himself for pretty much everything.

 

So, yeah, everyone had been caught up about the whole ‘chensung situation,’ as Donghyuck liked to call it.

 

Jeno frequented Jisung’s dorm with ice cream whenever he deemed Jisung pitiful enough to warrant a Princess Bride watch party. Mark also took to dropping by with chocolates and boba, though he often dragged Jisung off to underground rap battles instead of coddling him with blankets and forcing him to watch cheesy romcoms. 

 

Sometimes, when Mark was off at class and Donghyuck had free time, Jisung would go over and they’d spend the day at Hyuck’s apartment tearing into their crushes. Donghyuck would go off about how Mark was a thick-headed het, and Jisung would rant about how Chenle was a coward. Then they’d go for pizza and everything was fine.

 

Supposedly.

  
  


__

  
  


Jisung doesn’t know what lead him to join to the Neo Culture Team - previously named the Mystical Mortal Relations Club, as he later found out. Maybe it was cause he wanted to be more cultured, or maybe he just wanted to feel connected to Chenle in any way he could.

 

Really, the only thing for certain was that the minute he stepped into one of the old library storage rooms, Jisung knew he was royally fucked.

  
  


__

  
  


Lucas was loud, Jisung decided, the loudest in NCT, and possibly the most annoying. Jisung would pretty much hear him even before he opened to door to their meeting room, probably laughing over something stupid Haknyeon has said.

 

Hyunjoon looked up when he walked in, sending him one of his small “my condolences to your ears” smiles before turning back to his conversation with Vernon.

 

Chris, one of the unnamed presidents of the club, glanced up when he walked in. “Jisung!” he said, waving. “We missed you last week!” Chris, who was from Park U, had basically founded the club. He was the reason it was open to anyone from the surrounding campuses - Hyunsuk University, Pledis College, Maroo College, the list went on -, but met at SMU because they actually had space and was liberal compared to other places.

 

Jungwoo, who was sitting next to Chris - they were probably talking about the inter-racial politics going on, per usual - looked up and sent a megawatt smile Jisung’s way.

 

“Sung!” he cooed. “It’s good to have you back.”

 

Jihoon snorted. “Nice to see our token human here again.”

 

Woojin - vamp-Woojin, not to be mistaken for human-Woojin, Chris’ boyfriend - elbowed his best friend in the ribs. Hard. Jihoon, who was mixed and therefore no match for Woojin’s pureblood strength, toppled off the table he was sitting on, hitting the ground with a small thud.

 

Jisung swore he saw a cloud of dust poof out from the age-old carpet.

 

Jeongin, the only other human in the room aside from Jisung, squinted at Jihoon’s, now dust-covered, form from his perch on one of the old rickety desks in the corner. “Does everyone forget the fact that I exist?”

 

“Sometimes I still hear his voice,” Haknyeon said, putting a palm to his forehead and staring wistfully at the half-broken fluorescent lights. Hyunjoon planted a foot in his boyfriend’s back, shoving him off the table.

 

“Be civil,” their advisor, Dr. Nakamoto, one of the multicultural ethics professors, chastised, not even looking up from his manga.

 

Jeongin’s eyes met Jisung’s and he made a face. Jisung tried and failed to hide his smile.

 

“Anyways,” Jungwoo said as Jisung dropped his bag on a random chair near the one he and Lucas were perched on, hiking himself up onto the table beside Chris. The conversation behind him roared back to life, Jihoon and Woojin bickering with Haknyeon like nothing had ever happened.

 

“Why weren’t you here last week? You normally never miss a meeting.”

 

Jisung shrunk a bit. “I, uh, wasn’t feeling well.”

 

Chris clamped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

 

Jisung nodded. “So,” he mumbled, watching out of the corner of his eye as Jungwoo quietly giggled over something Lucas did. “What’d I miss?”

 

“We just talked about the new Inter-Racial Relations Committee that’s being set up,” Chris explained.

 

“It’s a bunch of PR,” Jungwoo added. “Basically, they won’t be doing anything political besides speaking out about issues and going on broadcasts and things, but some pretty influential people will be joining.”

 

“A lot of them are young, too!” Chris piped up. “So they’ll be joining different campuses, hopefully! We’re gonna try to get some of them to stop by here when they can. My cousin’s coming in from Australia, and Jihoon’s friend from the Lai clan is joining, too.”

 

Jisung blinked. “Lai?” he asked.

 

“Yeah, why?”

 

“Oh, it’s just…” He trailed off, not wanting to give Renjun’s personal life away. “I have a mixed friend whose parents got some help from them.”

 

Chris hummed, and Jungwoo nodded in understanding. “Not uncommon,” he explained, nodding over towards Jihoon. “The same thing happened with Wink Boy.”

 

Lucas, who’d been surprisingly quiet after Jisung walked in, furrowed his eyebrows. He’d always been a little awkward around Jisung, and though Jungwoo liked to say it was because the Chinese boy had never been around anyone fully human, Jisung begged to differ.

 

“The Huangs?” Lucas asked.

 

Jisung froze. Jungwoo and Chris turned to look at him and, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Dr. Nakamoto peeking out from over his manga. Jisung ducked his head, nodding.

 

“Renjun, right?” Lucas said, a smile splitting his face. “I met him when I moved here. He’s scary for someone so small!”

 

Jisung felt something heavy lift off his shoulders. “Yeah,” he laughed. “He is. He likes to drag people around by their ears.”

 

“He threatened to ‘delete my kneecaps’ once!”

 

Jisung snorted. That was such a Renjun thing to say, honestly. “That’s nothing,” he said. “One time, he promised to turn me inside out and wear my skin as a tie for his school uniform.”

  
  


__

  
  


Work that day was … interesting, to say the least. Eunmin had called in sick so Jisung was on his own with the kids for the first time in a while. Thankfully, it was just Sihyun and a few other kids this time. They’d been losing a lot of the older ones to cram schools recently, something Hoya wasn’t too happy about.

 

“When a kid finds something they love this early in life, it’s a blessing,” he’d told Jisung one day as they locked up together. “It’s a shame to see that ripped away from them for something so temporary.”

 

The class had gone from about fifteen to seven, and today there were only about five kids.

 

Jisung must’ve looked confused at such a small amount of kids spread out across the waiting room when he walked in because Sihyun immediately popped up from where she’d been curled up on the loveseat and bluntly said, “Hoseok is sick.”

 

Jisung stared at the teen blankly, before nodding. “Okay, well, please let him know I hope he feels well soon.” She nodded, pocketing her phone and following close on his heels as he went over to unlock the studio. The rest of the kids followed behind like baby chicks.

 

“Eunmin’s not here today either,” Jisung explained as the tiny humans streamed into the room behind him, dumping their bags along the wall. “Do you guys want me to lead stretches this time?”

 

“No!” Eunho shouted.

 

“Your stretches hurt!” Jimin added, puffing out her cheeks.

 

Sihyun snickered quietly behind her hand. Jisung had to force himself not to glare at her. That snake. “Ok, ok,” he said. “Just make sure you stretch properly, okay? I don’t want to have to take any of you to the hospital for a pulled muscle.”

 

“Not like you could take us anyways, hyung,” Gunho said. “You can’t even drive.” Jimin howled with laughter beside him.

 

“Jisung-oppa’s in college,” Eunho added, crossing her arms over her chest and jutting out her chin. God, she’d been spending too much time with Eunmin. “He doesn’t  _ need _ to drive.”

 

“Everyone needs to drive,” Gunho argued.

 

Jisung sighed, pinching his nose. When he looked up, Sihyun was shooting him a shit-eating - yet somehow bashful - smile.

 

God, this was gonna be a long day.

 

__

 

Hoya didn’t need him for closing for once, so Jisung ended up going home early. His roommate, thankfully, was gone. As much as Jisung loved him, he also couldn’t stand dealing with him after work when his patience was already worn thin.

 

The kid had even less of a filter than Donghyuck, honestly.

 

Jisung sighed as he climbed up his ladder, slipping and banging his shins onto the wooden rungs, per usual, before pulling himself up onto his bunk. He really had to call maintenance to get his bed unlofted, but that meant moving shit around. Plus socialization, which he was trying to keep to a minimum.

 

He tried and failed to straighten out his blankets, in the end giving up and just laying on the comforter bundled up on the middle of his bed. The fabric was hard compacted like this. It bit uncomfortably into his back, but Jisung’s head and body were too heavy to even attempt to try to straighten it out. Instead, he just shuffled onto his side, wincing at the crumpled cotton pushed into his side, until he was staring at his wall. The old picture of Mark’s graduation, back when Chenle was still here, was peeling off the painted cement.

 

Jisung couldn’t help but brush his hand out to smooth it back, his fingers lingering on it a little too long for comfort before he finally pulled back. He and Chenle were on the opposite sides of the picture, so detached from each other that no one would have even known that they been …

 

Jisung pushed that thought down, eyes moving from Chenle and his stupid galaxy meets ocean eyes. Mark was smiling in the picture. They all were, actually.

 

Jaemin, Jeno, and Hyuck were all crowded around him, beaming like proud parents. Renjun was poking his head out between his boyfriend’s shoulders, throwing a pair of bunny ears over Donghyuck’s head - something Hyuck had chased him around for, afterward. Renjun’s fang peaked out from under his lip, and Chenle’s smile was so wide you could see his from behind his ‘fake’ canines.

 

He’d been laughing when the photo was taken, Jisung remembered. He wondered if Chenle still looked the same. He knew the vamp didn’t, at least not from what Jisung had seen in his pictures on Insta and Twitter, but that was never the same. He knew the rest of the group was different, for sure. They probably wouldn’t even be able to recreate the picture.

 

Renjun, aside from having his fang removed - the dentist said it was interfering with his human teeth too much - was too short to fit over Jeno and Jaemin now. He’d need an apple box. Not that Jisung would ever tell him that, he’d get killed. Not to mention the obvious fact that Chenle wouldn’t be there.

 

Jisung groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes as he blindly grabbed for a pillow, thwaking it against the wall when he finally found it. It made a resounding smack that wasn’t as satisfying as Jisung had hoped.

 

Silence. Then, “You okay there bud?” Heonwoo called from the room over. “You never make noise!”

 

Jisung flushed red. “Sorry,” he grumbled. “I just … tripped.”

 

“What? Can’t hear you!”

 

Good fucking god, what the hell was this? “I tripped!” Jisung shouted.

 

“Oh, well I hope you’re okay!” Heonwoo called. “Nice job in class today!”

 

“You too,” Jisung said, resisting the urge to scream. He grabbed at the pillow that had started this whole mess in the first place and shoved it over his face.

 

Ping!

 

He groaned. What was it now? He fumbled around for his phone, nearly knocking it off the bed as he grabbed it. Hyuck had sent him another meme, great. He rolled his eyes and threw it at his feet, pulling the pillow back over his head and heading to sleep, concrete blanket ball and all.

  
  


___

  
  


When Jisung woke up the dorm was dark. His roommate wasn’t back, he realized. There weren’t any gaming noises, and Jisung sure didn’t hear the boy sobbing over a drama. He groaned.

 

“What time is it?” he mumbled.

 

The stone walls were silent.

 

Fumbling around his sheets until he found his phone, nearly dropping it on his face he laid back, squinting at the too bright screen. He really should follow Mark’s advice and turn in to night mode when it got dark, the LED was way too strong on his eyes. It was only six, his phone read. Great, he had enough time to sprint down to the dining hall. He glanced down at his notifications, sighing at the spam Donghyuck had sent him. He started scrolling through them, keeping an eye out for any updates on his classes’ Snapchat group chats.

 

Near the bottom, sent right in between a notif from his Calc class and another cat gif from Jeno was an Insta notif.

 

Jisung choked, dropping the phone flat on his face this time. He scrambled around, heart in his chest as he opened his lock screen again, scrolling furiously to find the notification again.

  
  


zhong_lele sent you a post

  
  


zhong_lele sent you a message

  
  


Jisung stared at his screen in horror. This could not be happening, not after months of radio silence, not after Chenle left and just, erased everything. He sucked in a breath, blinking a few times to see if the message was, in fact, real. Nothing. No magic sparkles, no sudden virus popup, no streamers bursting down from the ceiling as Donghyuck threw himself through the window and screamed ‘gotcha!’

 

Holding his phone further away from his face, Jisung blankly watched the numbers at the top of his screen change. Okay. Okay, he could do this. He quickly opened the message, punching in his password and squeezing his eyes shut as Insta was pulled open.

 

He could do this.

 

He could do this.

 

Blinking his eyes open, he scanned over the post that Chenle had sent him. It was one of those ‘starters guides’ edits, this one specifically for ‘that one dance prodigy.’ There was a flannel in it somewhere, along with a snapback, a speech bubble reading awkward, and some text reading ‘somehow insanely good looking’ in the corner.

 

Chenle had sent a simple message alongside it.

 

_ It’s you!!!! _

 

Jisung sucked in a shaky breath as he closed out of the app. He set his phone down next to him, covered his face with shaking hands, and tried not to cry.

 

He failed.


	2. Chapter 2

Weighing his options had never been Jisung’s strong suit, but damn, if the high schooler him could see college him now, he’d be proud of how quickly Jisung figured out that going to Renjun with this problem was most certainly not the best idea.

 

So, instead, he went for his next best option.

 

Donghyuck picked up on the seventh ring. “Care to tell me why you’re calling me in the middle of my shift?” he asked, tone dry.

 

“Hyung,” Jisung started before Hyuck cut him off.

 

“Ok, nevermind,” Donghyuck said, voice suddenly softer, more urgent. “Be here as soon as you can.”

 

Jisung blanched. “What?”

 

“You never start with hyung,’’ Donghyuck huffed. “It’s always stuttering or ‘um, uh, well.’” Well, he wasn’t wrong. “Anyways, whatever it is, you’re obviously in a pinch or whatever.”

 

“I-” Jisung started, before sighing. “Thank you, hyung.”

 

“No problem, beloved dongsaeng. I’ll text you the address in case you don’t remember. Just try to buy something while you’re here so my manager doesn’t yell at me.”

 

A tinny voice rang out faintly from Jisung’s phone  - “Lee Donghyuck! I heard that!” - before Donghyuck snapped a quick “Gotta go ‘Sung, see you!”

 

By the time Jisung got to the Lotus Parlor, it was already pitch black. He could feel his stomach rumbling as he strolled through the doors, the small, Tinkerbell shaped chimes on the door twinkling as he stepped inside. 

 

The air tasted like Lush had spawned an illegitimate love child with Starbucks. It was nearly enough to send Jisung reeling. 

 

No wonder Hyuck liked working here, it smelled like spite and sarcasm.

 

The sound of the bells signaled his arrival, and Donghyuck looked up from where he’d been reading what looked like a textbook he’d half hidden behind the tip jar. “The Parlor welcomes you,” Donghyuck said through a tight grin, flipping the book closed so the cover was face down. “Can we interest you in any special brews?”

 

Jisung just looked at him.

 

Hyuck flushed. “Look, dude, it’s just a thing I have to say. Now, what do you want?”

 

“Uh,” Jisung glanced up at the menu, written in fancy lettering on a chalkboard above Donghyuck head. “Anything that tastes like hot chocolate?”

 

Hyuck rolled his eyes. “How’s a mocha chai tea latte with nutmeg sound?” Jisung hummed in approval and stepped closer to pay. Donghyuck just gave him a look. “It’s on the house, Sung.” 

 

The unspoken ‘you look like you need it’ hung in the air between them. Jisung pursed his lips but nodded. God, he was starving. 

 

“You really need to stop giving things ‘on the house,’ Donghyuck,” someone called from further behind the counter. They didn’t sound mad, just tired.

 

“Sorry, hyung,” Donghyuck mumbled.

 

Jisung peered around his hyung, catching sight of bubblegum pink hair so perfectly dyed it nearly looked natural. The man was older than them by a good couple of years, with a sharp jaw and an even sharper stare. 

 

He was beautiful, in a terrifying way.

 

Jisung wondered for a small second if he was a vampire. He quickly ruled out the idea. The man’s eyes were brown, both of them. If he was vamp, it was far up in his family tree, like Jaemin. His eyes caught Jisung’s before he gave the boy a quick once over. A small smile stretched across his thin lips, the only feature on his face that didn’t seem like it came out of a magazine. It made him look more human, if possible.

 

“Your friend hasn’t eaten, Donghyuck,” the man said, matter of factly, as he went back to cleaning some mugs. “Throw a few scones in there for him, too, please.”

 

“Of course, hyung.” Donghyuck turned to Jisung. “Find a place to sit. I’ll bring your stuff over and we can chat.”

 

“How did he know I haven’t eaten?” Jisung asked quietly, eyeing the man.

 

Donghyuck threw him a tense smile. “Taeyong-hyung is just observant. Now go on, shoo, sit.”

 

Jisung bit down on his tongue and any other roaring questions it held, wandering off towards a table in the corner. While he was waiting for his ‘order’ - he honestly didn’t know what to call it, seeing as he didn’t even pay - another customer walked in.

 

“The Parlor welcomes you,” Donghyuck said mechanically as he poured something in a cup quickly, passing it off to Taeyong before scurrying behind the register. “Can we interest you in any special brews?”

 

The customer, a tall man with dark hair and eyes, hummed. “A plain jasmine, please. No sugar,” he said. “And could you add some lotus water?”

 

Jisung screwed up his nose. Was that even a thing? It sounded disgusting.

 

Taeyong’s eyes flicked over from where he was finishing up Jisung’s drink, meeting Jisung’s stare. He held it for a while before smiling softly and shaking his head.  Jisung blushed, ducking his head. He didn’t really mean to eavesdrop, it was just quiet in the shop, and the soft pop playing over the speakers wasn’t enough to drown out the man’s voice. 

 

The customers drink was done before his. Donghyuck just pulled a kettle off an electric burner and whipped out a to-go cup, pouring it in before sealing it up and handing it off to the man. Jisung frowned. It didn’t look like he’d put any fancy water in there.

 

“Thank you,” the man said. “Could you remind me where your restroom is?” Donghyuck pointed over to a door that certainly didn’t look like a bathroom. The man thanked him again and headed for it, passing by Donghyuck’s manager as he went.

 

“Taeyong,” he greeted blandly. 

 

“Doyoung,” Taeyong replied, sounding somewhat bitter. And then the man, Doyoung, walked into the bathroom, drink and all.

 

Jisung stared blankly, wondering when his life had turned into one of those stupid dramas his roommate loved.

 

It didn’t take Donghyuck long after that to stroll up to Jisung’s table, a steaming mug in one hand and a plate with a handful of scones in the other. “So,” he said, setting the food and drink down in front of Jisung. “Care to explain why you’re looking back like you did in senior year?”

 

Jisung could practically feel the blush creeping onto his cheeks. He ducked his head hiding behind his bangs as he picked up a scone. “I sure feel like I’m in senior year again,” he mumbled, nibbling on the corner of the pastry. 

 

Donghyuck face fell. “Sung,” he said, voice low. Jisung’s eyes found purchase on the strange characters that’d been carved into the sides of the table. “Jisung,” Donghyuck said again. “Did … Did Chenle talk to you?”

 

Jisung froze, then, slowly, he nodded. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “He, uh, he sent me a meme.” He reached for his drink, mouth suddenly feeling dry.

 

Hyuck was quicker, though, snatching the mug away and staring dead serious at Jisung. “Elaborate.”

 

“He sent me a meme and said it reminded me of him,” Jisung managed, making grabby hands for his stupid latte thing. “Please hyung, I’m emotional and stressed and I really really need sugar.”

 

Donghyuck sighed, relinquishing the drink back over to Jisung, who chugged nearly half of it in that stupid, gen z nervousness of his. “Are you … Are you okay, Sung?” hyuck asked. “You seem …” he trailed off.

 

“Shaken up?” Jisung laughed. “Yeah, I am.” He paused. 

 

“I guess … I guess I was just used to the whole silence thing. I thought I was starting to get over him. I wasn’t thinking about it much anymore. It stopped hurting like it used to. It was starting to feel more and more like a dream than reality, you know. Something where you can only remember bits and pieces.”

 

Jisung felt his breath catch. “And, and then he-” He ducked his head again, sucking in sharp breaths. “I thought he’d forgotten about me, hyung. It hurt, so, so much, but I was getting used to it. And, and now …”

 

Donghyuck reached out, his fingers twining gently with Jisung’s and squeezing gently.  Jisung squeezed back. He glanced over to Taeyong, still cleaning mugs behind the counter. The older man’s head shot up, his eyes catching Jisung’s own, and he sent the younger boy a small smile, sympathetic and soft. 

 

The freshman tore his eyes away. “I don’t know how to feel,” Jisung managed. 

 

Donghyuck sighed. “How do you want to feel?” he asked.

 

The words barely took a second to come to the younger boy. “Angry,” Jisung said. He stared at his hands, still holding Donghyuck’s, and imagined, for a quick second, that they were Chenle’s. He squeezed tighter, telling himself it was because he wanted the vamp to feel just as hurt as he did.

 

“I want to be pissed,” Jisung seethed, feeling his frustration bubble to the surface. “I want to be able to yell at him, give him hell for putting us through all this.”

 

Donghyuck nodded. “I wish I could be angry, too,” he said. “But, Jisung…” He looked up. Hyuck’s eyes were almost like clay, molded and sculpted and ready to be fired, but they weren’t hard yet, they hadn’t yet been varnished with indifference or apathy.

 

“How do you want to feel?”

 

Jisung paused, staring into the expanse of his cup. He thought about Chenle, about his smile and his eyes and the way he laughed. He thought about how their fingers felt when interlaced together, about how it felt to cuddle up together on Jisung’s bed. He thought of all the stolen kisses up on their building’s rooftop.

 

Chenle had always looked at him as if he was in pain, as if Jisung was the one both hurting and healing him at the same time. When the news of him leaving had broke, he’d crept down onto Jisung’s fire escape, guilt in his eyes.  Chenle kissed Jisung as if he’d never see him again, that night. He’d held the younger boy close, pretending he had everything together as he pressed an ear to his chest.

 

Jisung remembers gripping tight onto Chenle’s shoulders, remembers holding him close as the vamp shook, remembers kissing him slow and meaningful. But he doesn’t remember the sound of Chenle’s laugh, only the feeling. He doesn’t remember the exact shade of Chenle’s eyes, doesn’t remember the way his hair felt between Jisung’s fingers or the way his fangs looked when he threw his head back and howled with laughter.

 

Jisung remembered feeling in love, so, so desperately in love that it hurt, but … He couldn’t remember Chenle. Not as vividly as he wanted to, not when almost two years had passed.

 

“I want to feel happy,” Jisung blurted. “I want to see him again, hyung. Badly.”

 

But he didn’t know if he could. He knew things had been changing pretty rapidly in the vamp world. Chris and Jungwoo had told him all about it. New laws had been passed protecting mixed kids and interracial couples, not to mention the whole diplomat thing they’d been talking about in NCT.  He still remembered Chenle’s hesitance. Even with everything that had been put in place to help relationships like his and Chenle’s, the Zhong’s were too high up on the food chain, of too much importance to let things work. 

 

“If I’m allowed to give my two cents,” Taeyong piped up, promptly both Jisung and Donghyuck to whip around and stare at the pink-haired man. “I think you shouldn’t put yourself down.”

 

“Hyung,” Donghyuck hissed.

 

Taeyong rolled his eyes. “Oh shush, dongsaeng.” He turned his attention back to Jisung. “Give yourself the benefit of the doubt. Change is coming, you’re not exempt from it.”

 

Jisung blanched. “I, what, how-”

 

“Okay!” Donghyuck said, rising quickly from his seat. Jisung winced as the chair screeched across the floor. “I think it’s time Jisung heads out. My break is over-”

 

“You were never on break to begin with,” Taeyong sniffed.

 

Donghyuck sent him a dirty look that had Jisung wincing. The last person on the receiving end of that had been Mark, and he’d been promptly kicked out of his own apartment for half a month before Hyuck had even begun to forgive him.

 

Taeyong, though, didn't back down. He just puffed his chest, put a hand to his hip, and threw on the best ‘fucking try me’ face Jisung had seen since the last time Jeno had tried arguing with Renjun.

 

Donghyuck, however, had never been one to back down from a challenge. “Jisung has to study, anyways,” he pressed.

 

“I finished midterms last week,” Jisung said, feeling a grin spread on his face. 

 

Donghyuck turned to glare at him. “You,” he hissed. “You are making me fussy.”

 

Jisung smirked. “Good.”

 

Donghyuck made a throttling motion, and Jisung slipped away, giggling. “I’ll head out, jeez,” he laughed. “Thanks, though, hyung. Really. It … it helped.”

 

Donghyuck scoffed. “Don’t be stupid, Sung,” he said. “I’ll always be here. Even if it doesn’t help.”

 

Jisung frowned. “I just said-”

 

“You can’t get anything past me,” Hyuck said. “You still have to make up your mind. I can tell.”

 

Jisung opened his mouth to protest, before closing it. He toed the floor. “Thanks, hyung.”

 

“Take your time figuring out what you need to do,” Donghyuck said. Jisung nodded, looking quickly between him and Taeyong before heading for the door.

 

“Have a safe walk!” Taeyong called. Jisung nodded, waving goodbye to both Hyuck and his candy-haired manager as he left.

 

“And don’t fucking come back!” Donghyuck yelled after him. The sound of the bell chiming as the door closed behind Jisung nearly drowned out the sound of Taeyong’s palm making contact with the back of Donghyuck head.

 

Nearly.

 

His mind wasn’t exactly off Chenle as he headed home, but it the thoughts about him didn’t swarm Jisung’s head anymore. He’d sleep it off, maybe. Perhaps, wake up early and head to the studio to practice. He’d come up with some kind of solution to his problem, even if it took another visit to Donghyuck at the Lotus Parlor, with its stupidly observant managers and odd, drama-like customers that took their drinks into bathrooms.

 

Jisung froze, nearly slamming into a lamppost as he realized, already halfway back to the dorm, that, in all the time he’d spent at the cafe, the man called Doyoung had never come back out of the ‘bathroom.’


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the shit is starting to hit the fan, albeit slowly. a slow-mo shit hitting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> senior year sucks ass. instead of getting to work on this, my beloved baby, ive been spending my time writing essays for over twenty scholarships. money is an illusion, time is a construct, ap lit is a het. anyways, here you go. sorry it's so long overdue :(

Witches weren’t uncommon. Jisung remembered Chenle talking about them back in high school and, according to him, they were unavoidable.

 

“Like flies,” Chenle had said once, carding a hand through Jisung’s hair as the younger boy played a game on his phone. “Just prettier and way more deadly.”

 

Magic wielders always had a strong connection with vamps, they’d created them in the first place, not to mention they were basically like vampire doctors. It made perfect sense that there’d be just as much, if not more, of an abundance of them.

 

What didn’t make sense was the fact that Jisung may or may know a few now.

 

He’d never been the most perceptive in the group. That role went to Renjun, or Donghyuck. Of course, Jisung and Chenle had been able to convince the both of them that they weren’t dating, but that was a separate matter, an inside job. Point being, Jisung wasn’t good at telling things about people. He couldn’t tell Mark was straight, couldn’t tell Jungwoo, a kid with blonde roots showing through his dyed hair and blue eyes like something out of a crappy teen fantasy drama was a vamp.

 

He couldn’t even tell Chenle had liked him back way back when.

 

But Taeyong was definitely not human, Jisung decided, staring at his hands as he lay on his bed. He knew that. He also knew he also wasn’t a vamp. At least, Jisung didn’t think so. He was pretty enough to be, and he could’ve been wearing contacts.

 

But vamps couldn’t read people’s minds.

 

They could, at most, offer you cuddles and maybe a promise of getting boba later even though they couldn’t have any.

 

Jisung could always ask Donghyuck. It’d be awkward, though, that’s for sure.

 

‘Hey, hyung, is your manager a witch? Also, was that guy that went into the backroom with his drink and never came out also one too?’ The answer would, probably, just be another ‘Taeyong-hyung is perceptive. And no, that customer just has a bladder issue,’ or something.

 

But Jisung could always try. The older boy had always had a bit of a soft spot for him.

 

Not as big of a soft spot as Jaemin, who declared, in front _of his boyfriends_ , that if Jeno, Renjun, and Jisung were drowning, he’d save Jisung. (His defense, of course, was that Renjun was the devil and therefore couldn’t die and that Jeno knew how to swim, but, alas, he was banned from cuddles for a week.)

 

The thing is, Hyuck had always been closed off in a way that Jisung hadn’t ever really understood. And, well, maybe he was just starting to understand.

 

The group had never gone into his house, like actually into it past the front door. Only Mark had ever seen Donghyuck’s room, but, when asked, he always went silent. Hyuck never talked about the incident either. (Jeno says there was some kind of weed-induced confession that happened. Jaemin says Jeno needs to shut up.)

 

He never talked much about his home life, had always been a little more comfortable with the supernatural than the others.

 

Donghyuck, Jisung realized, was an amazing friend that he could go to about anything.

 

But this, this was something that probably hit too close to home for him.

 

“YangYang,” Jisung said suddenly.

 

His roommate hummed, not looking up from his drama. “Yeah?”

 

“Let’s say you, like, had this really big issue you were dealing with,” Jisung said. “And then you found out there was another issue that might be just as big that you found out about. What would you do?”

 

The was a quick tapping sound as YangYang paused his video, the joints in his neck popping as he craned his head up to squint at Jisung from his position curled up on the only chair they had.

 

“I’d say, from the point of view of someone who has seen a lot of dramatic shit go down,-” he gestured to his phone. “-that you should probably leave the second one be.”

 

Jisung nodded. “Okay.”

 

YangYang nodded back, turning to his phone again. A few seconds had passed before Jisung blurted out a quick, “But what if it’s, like, really important, too?”

 

“God fucking-” YangYang hissed, tapping at his phone. The leads, apparently, were just about to kiss.

 

The exchange student glared at Jisung.

 

“Tip of the iceberg or whatever metaphor you want, if it’s bigger than you think it is, it’s gonna make you go crazy and you’re gonna focus on that and then whatever problem you had before is gonna come back two episodes before the finale and whoop your ass.”

 

“That,” Jisung said, “Actually made sense.”

 

“Good,” YangYang said, plugging in his ear buds and going back to his drama.

 

Silence. Then, “Okay, but what if-”

 

“I swear to god, Park Jisung, if you interrupt this scene one more time I’m going to call your tiny vamp friend over and let him rage hell on you.”

 

___

 

**J.sung_pwark likes this message**

 

___

 

Death, Jisung decided as he stared at the little heart icon under the post Chenle had sent him, could not come soon enough.

 

There was no way to unlike a message on an Insta DM that he knew of, and, well, he’d just liked the one Chenle had sent him. Over twelve hours after he’d already opened it.

 

“I’m gonna die,” he said to no one. “I’m gonna fucking die.”

 

“Not in front of my salad you won’t,” Jaemin hissed, reaching over to pluck Jisung’s phone from his hands and set it on top of the steadily growing pile of cellular devices laying the center of their dining hall table.

 

Renjun and Mark had already been casualties, which was funny because Mark didn’t even have a dining hall pass anymore, so how he’d managed to get in without any of them using their guest passes was a mystery to them all.

 

Jisung quickly reached out to flip the phone so that it was screen down, eyes darting around to check if any of them had seen the chat still open with Chenle. Renjun was silent, still munching away at his panini, and Jaemin was going off about the danger of GMO’s, so it seemed like he was in the clear.

 

“Stop swearing, Jisung,” Mark said. ‘It’s unbecoming.”

 

Jeno choked on his hamburger. Renjun nearly dropped his panini. Jaemin kept going on about GMO’s. “Holy crap,” Donghyuck said, reaching out to slap a hand over Jaemin’s mouth so he shut up. “Mark Lee knows big words.”

 

Mark glared. “I’m not an idiot.”

 

Jeno choked back a laugh. “Yes you are,” Hyuck hissed.

 

“Am not!”

 

“Are too!”

 

“Am not!”

 

“Are too!”

 

Jisung rolled his eyes, glancing over at the others to find Renjun giving Jeno a knowing look.

 

Jaemin mimed two people kissing with his hands and Jeno threw his head back in a laugh, Renjun smiling sweetly at Jaemin before grabbing his hand and pressing a quick kiss to the vamp’s wrist.

 

Jisung felt his lunch solidify, concrete in his stomach as he tried not to wince. He must’ve made a face, because Jaemin slowly slipped his arm from Renjun’s grip, a soft expression on his face.

 

“Sorry, Sungie,” he mumbled, words barely audible over Donghyuck and Mark’s bickering.

 

“No,” Jisung said, feeling the mood take a turn towards sour. “No, it’s okay.”

 

“I know, it’s just …”

 

“Don’t let my problems interfere with your relationship, hyung,” Jisung said. He glanced at Jeno, who’d looked back down at his burger, eyes hard. Renjun, though, was staring right at Jisung, a knowing look in his eyes.

 

It’s getting worse again, his face seemed to say. Renjun’s eyes said he could tell. Jisung himself could tell. Even the custodians could probably tell.

 

“At least I know what a goddamn axolotl is!” Donghyuck shrieked from his seat a few places down, unaware of the whole situation happening between the four of them.

 

“And like knowing that’s gonna get you a job?” Mark snapped back.

 

“Jisung,” Renjun said. “You can come to us for anything, you know that, right?”

 

Jisung nodded, glancing over at Hyuck, who was still arguing with Mark, before ducking his head.

 

“I know, hyung,” he mumbled. “I just don’t …” He took a breath. “It’s worse when you coddle me, you know? When you try to tiptoe around high school cause you’re afraid you’re gonna hurt me again.”

 

“We tiptoe around you because we know it’s gonna hurt you.”

 

It Jeno who spoke this time.

 

Jeno, who’d thought of Chenle as his own sibling, just like Renjun had, Jeno, who’d cried as hard as Jisung did when the vamp left, who’d been the angriest when he’d found out how Jisung had lied to them.

 

“You’ve never seen yourself get bad, Jisung,” Jeno said. “But we have. It’s hard to watch. I know you had your reasonings why you thought you needed to hide from us, but this is different.”

 

“Jeno,” Jaemin tried, voice soft, but the older boy kept going.

 

“We-” he gestured to the group “-aren’t royalty. We don’t have arranged marriages. We don’t have jobs to watch over you and make sure you’re doing exactly as your told. That was Chenle’s problem, not yours. I don’t know why you keep thinking you need to hide everything from us.”

 

Jisung blanched. “I just ...” he mumbled, trailing off.

 

Jeno sighed. “I’m not trying to be mean,” he said. “I just want you to understand that just because you used to have to hide most important thing to you doesn’t mean you still have to hide how you’re feeling.”

 

“I think what Jeno is trying to say,” Jaemin said, sending a sharp look at his boyfriend. “Is that we’re alright with doing what we need to in order to make sure our baby is doing fine.”

 

Renjun rolled his eyes. “He is not our baby.”

 

Jaemin sniffed. “Well, he’s mine.”

 

“Yeah,” Renjun huffed. “We know. You chose saving him over us.”

 

Jeno laughed as Jaemin sputtered around an answer. “That was one time!” The vamp protested.

 

“One time too many,” Renjun huffed. Jeno rolled his eyes, getting up from his seat to lean over and give Jaemin a peck on the lips. The vamp wound his hands around the back of his neck when he tried to break the kiss, instead pulling him closer. There may or may not have been some tongue involved.

 

Jisung made a face of disgust. Renjun looked like he was in love.

 

Mark and Donghyuck, still fighting over if it was relevant to know what an axolotl was, didn’t even notice.

 

___

 

Jisung dropped his tray on the conveyor belt, picking up his chopsticks and spoon to dump them in the cup for silverware before he turned to head out of the dining hall.

 

“Sungie.”

 

Jisung turned around, blinking at Jeno. Oh. He’d forgotten his phone on the table. “Thanks, hyung,” he mumbled, grabbing it and immediately starting to fidget with the case.

 

Jeno smiled. “No problem. It’s, uh ...It’s good to see you guys are talking again. Just…” he paused, chewing on his lips. “Don’t let him hurt you, Jisung. It was hard the first time. I can’t see you like that again.”

 

And, with that, he left.

 

Jisung watched him go, slowly turning over his phone to look at his notifs.

 

**Zhong_lele sent you a message.**

 

___

 

_(“Give it back,” Jisung whined._

 

_Chenle reared his head back with a laugh, kicking his legs through the air as he scooted along the counter, trying to get away from Jisung. “Never!” he giggled.  Jisung threw out a hand, bracing his arm on the granite so Chenle couldn’t move any further away._

 

_Chenle made a face. “Not fair, you and your weird arms.”_

 

_Jisung ignored him. “What’s with you and holding food hostage?” he huffed, reaching over to grab the apple slice from between Chenle’s fingers. The older boy smiled, leaning back to hold the fruit out of his reach._

 

_“It’s a good bribe,” the vamp pouted, ocean eyes twinkling. Jisung snorted, leaning over to try and pluck the slice from his boyfriend's hand. “Nuh uh,” Chenle said, stretching his arm back further._

 

_“You gotta pay a price.”_

 

_Jisung just stared at him for a few seconds before sighing. He reached out slowly, placing a hand on Chenle’s waist and pulling him closer. The vamp startled a bit, eyes softening before he dropped his arm, reaching to snake it around Jisung’s neck._

 

_“Smooth moves,” Chenle laughed._

 

_Jisung swore it looked like his eyes were sparkling. “You know you love it,” he mumbled, eyes downcast._

 

_Chenle hummed. “More like I love you,” he said, cheeks tinting pink. He must’ve eaten recently, Jisung thought, staring at his face._

 

_It still felt surreal, dating Chenle. Getting to hold his hand, kiss him, lay with him under Jisung’s covers as he hummed lullabies while Jisung watched dance videos. “You shouldn’t do that move,” he would say every once in a while, pink dotting his cheeks and nose. “I would die if you did.”_

 

_And Jisung would spin around in the older boys arms, prop his chin on Chenle’s chest and smile at him. “You’re technically already dead,” he’d say. “So I’m gonna do it just to spite you.” And Chenle would blush or stutter or try to push Jisung off the bed._

 

_“Hey,” Chenle said. Jisung could feel the vamps voice rumble. “Are you gonna kiss me or what?”_

 

_Jisung rolled his eyes but leaned in anyways, brushing their lips together. A familiar buzz lit up Jisung’s chest, an odd humming that rose through his bones and clouded his head. Chenle made a noise, pushing closer as Jisung braced his weight on his arms, pressing his mouth closer and closer until it felt like he’d bruise._

 

_They were chest to chest, flush together. Jisung could feel Chenle’s skin start to warm with the contact. Chenle’s mouth was soft, a contrast to the sharpness of his fangs when they’d catch on Jisung’s lower lip every now and then._

 

_Chenle tilted his head, deepening the kiss. It, in the cheesiest of ways, was a rhythm only they knew, and Jisung honestly didn’t think he’d ever be able to get enough._

 

_Sadily, he needed to breathe, even if Chenle didn’t._

 

_He pulled away, Chenle chasing his lips with what seemed like his whole body, nearly falling off the counter as Jisung stepped back. He steadied the vamp a bit and Chenle murmured a small thanks, blinking at Jisung a few times as if he was coming back to himself._

 

_Jisung felt his lips pull into a smile, gliding a hand up Chenle’s waist to his jaw. He swiped a thumb over the vamps pulsepoint, just like Chenle always did with him, and watched in amusement as his eyes fluttered shut, bone deep in bliss._

 

_“Hey,” Chenle whispered._

 

_Jisung hummed, not taking his eyes off his lips. “Yeah?”_

 

_Chenle slid a hand up into Jisung’s hair. “The price went up.”_

 

_“Cool.”_

 

_He leaned back in.)_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the into the spiderverse soundtrack was the only thing that got me through writing this lmaooooo.  
> i've honestly had such a hard time writing this chapter (and chap five). i have most parts of chapters six and seven done since like march, but i really want to get more characterization and interaction between certain characters (wink wink nudge nudge) before i publish those. soooooo i need a bunch of filler chapters. and i ABHOR writing filler shit

**Zhong_lele**

_ 🜨active now _

 

**so howve you been**

**lol ik its kinda weird to open with that but…..**

**omg wow ok im being so awkward**

> **sent 9:02**

 

**yeah im doing good thx for asking**

**hbu?**

 

**im good**

**ur still doing dance right?**

 

**yeah i got a scholarship to smu for it.**

 

**congrats!!!**

**i mean ik its a lil late but …**

 

**no worries**

**thx anyways**

 

**cool**

**isnt smu where mark hyung decided to go?**

 

**yeah**

**the others too**

 

**so everyones together**

**thats so cool!**

 

**it is**

**i gotta head off to class**

**it was nice talking w you hyung.**

 

**ok**

**it was nice talking to you too jisung.**

 

___

 

“This,” Yangyang said, eyes squinted at Jisung’s phone as the younger boy lay curled up in a Misery Burrito on his bed. “This is the most awkward shit I’ve ever seen.”

 

Jisung made a noise from inside his comforter cocoon, peeking out at his roommate with his one functional eye. The other eye was currently smushed into a pillow. He watched as Yangyang scoffed at the screen again before tossing the phone back to Jisung.

 

“It’s like you two don’t even know how to communicate,” he said. 

 

Jisung winced as the phone dropped on his shoulder. He scrambled to free one of his hands. When he finally succeeded, he snatched the device and retracted his arm back into his little bundle.

 

“We don’t talk!” Jisung hissed, rolling around to stare at his roommate. “That’s the thing.”

 

“You used to date,” YangYang said matter of factly. He was sitting on the corner of Jisung’s bed, back shoved into the corner as he poked Jisung’s burrito with a socked foot in attempt to quite literally unravel him. 

 

It wasn’t working. 

 

“Just talked like you both used to back then,” YangYang said. “Rekindle this whole romance thing, skip off into the sunset, have little vampire babies.”

 

Jisung swallowed down another wave of anxiousness. The thought of dating Chenle again, of holding his hand and kissing his cheek and just  _ being  _ with him was undeniably tempting. But with it came an uncertainty. 

 

“I don’t think I’d be able to handle that,” Jisung muttered.

 

“Then stop talking to him!” YangYang said.

 

Jisung retracted more into his Misery Burrito. “I don’t think I’d be able to handle that, either.”

 

YangYang threw his hands up in defeat, making to get off Jisung’s bed and return to his dramas. Jisung made a noise, wiggling over to throw himself into his roommate's lap. He wouldn’t get away that easily.

 

“Just tell me what I need to do,” he said.

 

YangYang stared at him, eyes softening. He reached over, loosening the blankets around Jisung and pulling his arms free. “You need to figure out what you want, Sungie,” he said. “You’re not gonna get any answers until you do.”

 

Jisung huffed. “Why’re you being so cryptic?” he whined. 

 

YangYang’s face split in his signature ‘shit’s gonna go down’ grin. “Life is cryptic, young padawan,” he sang. Jisung scoffed. “It’s the truth. Anyways, you wanna know the word for your situation in English?”

 

Jisung blinked. “...Sure?”

 

“ _ Headassery _ .”

 

Yangyang ducked as a pillow was flung at his face.

 

___

 

 

**Chwenotchew**

_ 🜨active 1 hour ago _

 

**thx i guess for teaching me english slang**

**i know when to throw pillows at my roommate now**

**btw see you at the next nct meeting**

> **sent 2:53 am**

 

**...i am not gonna ask.**

 

 

___

 

 

The Lotus Parlor smelled less like Lush today and more like what a mouth stuffed full of half-chewed, pink Starbursts tasted like. It was oddly sickening, wrapping around Jisung’s throat as he walked through the door. 

 

Safe to say, Donghyuck looked less than pleased when Jisung walked into the shop, his customer smile sliding off his face the second he realized who it was. 

 

“Hi hyung,” Jisung said with an awkward wave, watching as a familiar black mop of hair disappeared towards the ‘bathrooms’ as he approached the counter. 

 

“‘Sung,” Donghyuck said, flipping that giant book of his closed again. 

 

Jisung stared at it for a bit, taking in the cracked spine and old, worn cover. Donghyuck followed his eyes down, clearing his throat when he saw what Jisung was looking at. He leaned forward, arms bracketing the book from view. Jisung was starting to think it was anything but a textbook. 

 

Donghyuck cleared his throat, eyes twitching around like they always did when he was nervous. “Not to be mean or anything-”

 

“You’re always mean, hyung,” Jisung said.

 

“-But why are you here?”

 

Jisung rolled his eyes. “I’m here for coffee. Or whatever it was that you got me last time.”

 

Donghyuck raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘are you sure?’ Jisung just whipped out his wallet and wiggled it around as if to reply ‘just take the last of my goddamn budget.’ Donghyuck sighed. “One mocha chai tea latte with nutmeg coming up,” he said, punching some numbers into the register. 

 

Jisung raised an eyebrow at the price, half convinced Donghyuck put in some kind of discount for him, but paid anyway. “Can I chat with you while you make it?” he asked. 

 

Donghyuck shrugged, grabbing his book and dumping it on the floor behind the counter. He said yes, so Jisung awkwardly followed him from the other side of the wood, peering over the espresso machine as Donghyuck started grabbing for ingredients. 

 

“I’ve been talking with Chenle,” he said after a bit.

 

Donghyuck just made a noise, snatching up a cup from his stack. 

 

“It’s been … weird,” Jisung continued, fumbling with the hem of his shirt. “We’re just DMing on Insta. I know it’s not anything big. He just sends me memes and I respond. Sometimes we talk about our lives.” 

 

A few seams came loose under his fingers. Jisung snapped his hands back, moving to worry at his fingers instead. It was less likely to break anything, that way.

 

“This is why he called you poop hands,” Donghyuck said, pouring Jisung’s drink in a mug and sprinkling it with some kind of light brown power. He glanced up at Jisung, a soft smile pulling on his lips as he handed Jisung the mug. “You can’t do shit without breaking anything.”

 

“And for some reason, you’re handing me ceramics,” Jisung said as he took the drink.

 

“Cause you’ll pay for it if it breaks. Duh.” Donghyuck laughed, moving to whack Jisung with the towel he’d picked up to start cleaning. 

 

Jisung hopped out of the way in time, nearly swearing as his drink sloshed around the edge of his mug. Miraculously, nothing spilled, even though the liquid had risen up almost completely over. 

 

Jisung gaped down at the drink in awe.

 

“Why don’t you go sit down,” Donghyuck said. “I’ll grab you some scones.” Jisung raised an eyebrow, reminding Donghyuck he didn’t actually pay for any scones. Donghyuck just made a noise, muttering a quick ‘oh well’ as he grabbed a plate and some tongs.

 

“Ya!” A voice, probably Taeyong, yelled from the back. Donghyuck flinched, a look only describable as his ‘oh shit’ face stretching across his features. “Stop giving out free stuff you brat!”

 

“Like you don’t let Ten-hyung eat for free!” Donghyuck snapped back.

 

“Ten owns this place, punk!”

 

Donghyuck huffed, shooing Jisung away. “Just sit down. I’ll join you.”

 

Jisung nodded, making his way over to a table in the corner that was close to the counter, just in case Donghyuck needed to get back to the register. He took his seat, glancing around at the empty tables surrounding him. 

 

For a coffee shop that always seemed to have such a steady flow of customers whenever he stopped by, it was oddly empty. Though that was probably because they were always disappearing into the ‘bathroom.’

 

Donghyuck pulling out the chair next to him, sliding into the seat. “I’m stealing one of your scones,” he said, snatching one up and stuffing the whole thing in his mouth. 

 

“Not technically mine, but go ahead.”

 

Donghyuck made a face, pushing Jisung’s drink closer to him. Jisung took a few sips. Good, as always. 

 

“So,” Donghyuck asked. “You wanna talk more about Chenle?”

 

Jisung shook his head. “I’m good. YangYang’s been helping me.”

 

Donghyuck made a noise of disgust, stealing another scone and stuffing it in his mouth. “Him? Helping with love advice? That spells disaster.” Jisung shot him a look and he threw his hands up in defense. 

 

“Okay, okay. So what’d you come here for then?”

 

Jisung stared at his drink. “When were you gonna tell me you were a witch?” he asked.

 

A beat passed, then two, then three, until Jisung finally looked up. Donghyuck was just staring at him, not necessarily in shock. He didn’t look scared, just defeated. Dejected. Like whenever Jisung came by after he’d had another fight with Mark.

 

“You’re probably the smartest one out of the whole group, you know that?” Donghyuck said after a bit. “We never give you enough credit.”

 

“Do the others not know?”

 

Donghyuck shook his head. “They do. Chenle would come to my mentor’s practice for check-ups. Renjun would come along with him just to make sure Chenle was reporting everything to the Huangs correctly.” 

 

Jisung bit back a swell of something in his throat; aggravation, vexation, anger. Probably a mix of it all. He hated thinking about the shackles Chenle carried with him, visible or not. He hated what that ‘protection’ did to Chenle, hated how it made him act.

 

Jisung could feel it some days, a tension that lay stiff and taunt in Chenle’s shoulders, in the stone-tight grip of his fingers and the steeled clench of his jaw. Jisung remembered it, vividly, in the way Chenle forgot about even pretending to breathe some days, head pressed against Jisung’s heart as he listened with a sorrow Jisung hadn’t yet known of. 

 

He couldn’t remember Chenle’s smile or the sound of his laugh or the feeling of his hair between Jisung’s fingers as the lay together on the rooftop. 

 

Jisung remembered, instead, that Chenle had eyes unmatchable with any color on this earth, that Chenle’s fangs glinted in the sun whenever he laughed, that every second he shared with Jisung was a reminder of something he could never keep. 

 

All in the name of protection, of order, tradition, and politics.

 

Jisung shook those thoughts from his head. He’d suffered enough wallowing in what could have been, what should have been. 

 

“Sounds about right,” Jisung said, swallowing down his bitterness. He grabbed at his drink, downing big gulps to wash away the taste. “Jaemin-hyung and Jeno-hyung know too, then, if Renjun knows.”

 

Donghyuck nodded. 

 

“And Mark?” Jisung asked. “What about him?”

 

Donghyuck made a face, one Jisung saw countless times in the drama’s YangYang loved so much. “He knows,” Donghyuck said. It sounded less like a confirmation and more like a death sentence. 

 

“You told him?” Donghyuck shook his head. He looked up at Jisung, slowly, resentment in his eyes. Not for Mark, Jisung realized, but for himself. “Hyung,” Jisung said, slowly. “What’d you do?”

 

Donghyuck just laughed, hollow, void of anything at all. “That’s a story for another time,” he said, getting up. “I’ve gotta get back to work. Don’t forget to finish the scones.”

 

Jisung nodded, watching him head back to the register with even less of a spring in his step than he had beforehand. When he turned back to look down at the table, he found nothing but crumbs on his plate.

 

“Seriously, hyung?!”

  
  


___

  
  


**Zhong_lele**

_ 🜨active now _

 

**so if hyucks a witch does that mean his tarot stuff is tru?**

**If they are i think i need to move**

**specifically somewhere where there arent any penguins**

  
  


**he told you?????**

**also korea doesnt have penguins to begin with???**

**also why????**

 

**technically i figured it out on my own**

**and we have zoos which is close enuogh and i dont like that**

 

**technicalities**

**also congrats on figuring it out lmao**

 

**thx**

**pls tell me i get a medal**

 

**lol srry you dont**

**i can send you a fake plastic one from the convenience store**

 

**you have those over there?**

 

**we do actually**

**wanna hear a funny story that may or may not have to do with it?**

 

**sure**

  
  


___

  
  


(It’s three in the morning when Jisung wakes up, a soft, incessant knocking ringing through his groggy ears. The noise, upon further inspection, is coming from his window, right by the fire escape. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes, grabbed his phone to light his way as he stumbles over, yanking it open.

 

Chenle smiles sheepishly back at him. 

 

“Hey,” he says, eyes dull, smile duller.

 

“Hey yourself,” Jisung mumbled, grabbing Chenle by the hand to steady him as he climbs inside. His skin is colder, colder than usual. Jisung wonders if he remembered to eat. “It’s, like, the ass crack of dawn. Why’re you up?”

 

“Sorry,” Chenle said. “I can leave if you want.”

 

Jisung rolled his eyes and leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips. He made to pull away, but Chenle returned the kiss softly, reaching up to brush a thumb over Jisung’s pulse-point. He broke away after a few seconds, eyes searching Jisung, probably for any signs of discomfort.

 

Knowing Chenle, he probably thought Jisung was off-put by the news from earlier and didn’t want anything to do with him. For a few seconds, before Jisung had gone to bed, he’d thought about it. Just briefly. About maybe ending this now.

 

But there would be no point, absolutely no point, in spending their last few days together being sadder than necessary.

 

Jisung just smiled and tugged Chenle softly towards the warmth of his bed. “I never said that,” he said, pulling Chenle to sit with him. “You should stay.” He grabbed his blankets, still warm from when he was sleeping, and wrapped them around Chenle’s shoulders. The vamp blushed, his cheeks just the faintest of pink. 

 

Yeah, he definitely hadn’t eaten. 

 

“Here,” Jisung said, grabbing his spare pack of blood boxes out from under his bed and handing Chenle one. “You need to take care of yourself.”

 

Chenle stared at the box, then at Jisung, mouth opening and closing around words he could barely form. “Thanks,” he said after a bit, voice quiet in the still of the night. “I … really, thank you, Jisung. For, for everything.”

 

Jisung shrugged. “It’s just food. I always have them for you.”

 

“I know,” Chenle said, worrying at his lips, then at the straw of the juice box, then again at his lips until Jisung reached out and pinched his cheeks with a knowing look. “What I meant was …” he trailed off. 

 

A few moments passed in somber silence before Chenle set the blood box down, reaching instead for Jisung’s hands.

 

“Thank you for this,” Chenle said.  “Thank you for being with me even though we couldn’t tell the others. For putting up with me being loud and annoying and clingy. For thinking of me and trying to help me. I don’t know what I would’ve ever done without you, Sung. Life here would’ve been boring if not for you.”

 

It was a sobering feeling, really, to hold someone’s hands and look them in the eye when they spoke genuinely from the soul. Whenever Jisung had seen it in dramas, he’d always thought it’d been romantic, touching, a heart to heart that warmed the soul.

 

Really it just felt like diving headfirst into an iced-over pond, cold and dark. It felt like a violin string snapped in half, like a candle that was put out by its own wax, like a flower dying in the middle of spring. 

 

Jisung didn’t say anything, didn’t respond. He just grabbed the blanket that’d slipped down Chenle’s shoulders, wrapping it around and both of them. Chenle snaked his arms around Jisung, burying his head in his chest.

 

“Thanks for loving me,” Chenle whispered into the night, his voice wet.

 

Jisung pressed a kiss to his hair. “You say that like I stopped,” he said.

 

Chenle went still. “I think,” he said softly, quietly, more to himself than to Jisung. “That it’d be best if you did.”)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to everyone who wished me luck with scholarships. i managed to win critics choice for my personal essay in my conferences writing competition, yet, alas, i've been turned down from like 10 scholarships. money's a bitch man.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dont kill me

Nine am lectures were the bane of Jisung’s existence. He hated waking up early for them. 

 

He hated them even more when they ended thirty minutes before important press conferences that his entire club had been invited to that just so happened to be in the amphitheater at the other end of campus.

 

You know, twenty minutes away. On a good day. Twenty minutes away on a good day if you mayhaps sprinted until you felt your lungs give and try to diephinistrate themselves out your throat.

 

Jisung sighed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. His dance class was at a weird time, so, schedule-wise, it was either early morning hell or a five pm lecture that would’ve cut right into the middle of a shift at the studio, effectively slicing his hours, and his money, down a full day.

 

So, alas, his was here, at nine in the morning - nine. in. the. morning!! -, with a bunch of other miserable freshmen who just  _ loved _ life just as much as he did.

 

He whipped out his phone real quick, blearily punching in the passcode - fuck he was exhausted, how the hell had he managed to make it to the lecture hall without getting himself killed? - and opening up his chat with Renjun.

_ hey hyung _

_ me n nct are goin to this vamp thign at the theater around 12 today _

_ wanna come??  _

_ you mentioned wanting to meet everyone before _

 

He pocketed his phone and stared down at the coffee Jeno had smuggled him. 

 

Jaemin had tried to ban him from all things caffeine - hypocritical seeing as he practically sipped on the souls of the dead every time he took a drink of that damn Starbucks special - but the rest of the hyungs had been helping to sneak him some whenever they could.

 

Today it came in the form of a post-gym Jeno popping by his dorm, shoving a latte in Jisung’s hands, and hissing a “you owe me” as Jisung passed him over the correct amount of cash.   YangYang saw the whole thing and sent them both an odd look as he walked towards the bathrooms.

 

_ (“It’s not drugs!” Jeno screamed, and Jisung hid his smile behind his coffee before the older boy murdered him for real this time.) _

 

He grabbed at the coffee, taking a long sip as the professor, looking just as tired and done with the world as her students, wobbled into class, a gallon jug of what looked suspiciously like cold coffee dangling from her fingers.

 

“Okay fuckers,” she sighed, dropping the coffee jug on her desk and whipping out a Monster to dump into it. “Let’s learn about plants.”

 

___

  
  


Jisung was nearly halfway through class when Renjun finally responded. 

 

The vamp was good at waking up early, he often did just so he could catch up on whatever the hell kind of social misadventure he’d missed when he’d been bundled up in the library studying for calc. 

 

But Jaemin had a penchant for cuddling, and a strict no phones in bed policy, so Renjun ended up basically becoming a hermit. Hell, if he responded before twelve on any day, that was a telltale of just how well his relationship was going. 

 

One time Jisung got a response nearly five seconds after he sent a message. At eight in the morning. The first thing he’d done in response was text Jeno “what the fuck did you do?”  And that had been the beginning of the Frozen Yoghurt Spat of Tuesday. 

 

Jisung shivered. 

 

He still had nightmares about that.

 

He reached for his phone, forgoing his notes for a quick second to check Renjun’s message. The slide would still be up when he was done, anyways. 

 

**_The One Who Could Kill You_ ** **sent you a message**

 

_ aw srry sung idk if i can _

_ have fun tho _

_ and yeah i might be able to come to the next meeting. hopes i can check n see if theyre all good enough to be hanging w my baby _

 

Jisung suppressed the urge to groan out loud in the middle of the lecture.

 

_ hyunggggggg  _

 

_ ψ(*｀ー´)ψ _

  
  


He rolled his eyes. Renjun being overprotective was nothing new. He pocketed his phone again, grabbing his pen and glancing back up to the front of the lecture hall.

 

Crap, the slide had changed.

 

___

  
  


Jisung managed to, somehow, make it in time to the auditorium in time for the doors to open. Though he suspected that had to do more with the dead sprint he’d set off in and his obnoxiously long legs than it did any kind of luck.

 

Chris and Jungwoo greeted him when he stumbled up to the their little group, Chris sending him a soft smile as he choked on air. “You know these things always start late, right?” he said. “You didn’t have to rush.”

 

Jisung’s brain, suffering from a severe lack of oxygen, spits out something along the lines of ‘oh tell me now why don’t you.’ His mouth just blurts out a long string of wheezes and hissing. 

 

Vernon just sighs and ushers him along, passing him a water bottle as they follow the line trickling into the auditorium.

 

From there it’s just small talk and bickering among the group. Woojin and Jihoon interrogate Jungwoo on how things are going with Lucas - who, surprisingly, didn’t want to come - and Chris and Vernon spout off into a contest on who can do the most accents.

Jungwoo, despite not competing, won.

 

Jisung just hung in the back with Jeongin, chatting about classes and not-so-subtly interrogating Dr. Nakamoto about his husbands, the very reason they were all let into the conference in the first place.

 

“If you thought I was old,” Dr. Nakamoto told them with a laugh. “Then wait until you meet Taeil.”

 

The only thing that popped into Jisung’s head was an image of that rat from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. 

 

Their reserved seats are surprisingly close to the stage, about five rows back behind the cameras and congressmen. It’s interesting, really. Reporters bustled around, cameramen adjusting their shots and figuring out how to work with the lighting.

 

Even the table that sat in the middle of the stage, long and empty, seemed intimidating.

 

Jisung grabbed at his phone out of habit, making sure to silence it before checking his notifs. 

 

Chenle sent him another cat meme. 

 

Jisung smiled at it and liked the post.

 

**im at a interracial conference rn so idk if ill be able to respond**

**it kinda reminds me of those debates you got into w the lx players in hs**

**minus the fistfights**

**hopefully**

 

There isn’t a response, just a read receipt that pops up, following by a text box that slides in and out of frame, as if he was deciding what the say. It disappears for good a few seconds later.

 

Dr. Nakamoto slapped his arm. “Put that thing away,” he said. “They’re starting soon.”

 

Jisung slips his phone into his pocket, straightening up to watch the stage. 

 

He wonders if he’ll learn more about any changes in the vamp social structure. Jungwoo did say all the representatives were purebloods. Maybe he’d be able to get a better understanding of things work

 

And maybe that’d lead to some kind of closure. 

 

The room goes silent, and, with a fascination Jisung hadn’t found within himself in years, he  watched as the council members spilled on stage, 

 

A lot of them are tall, all pale skin and blond hair and ocean eyes. They walk with a presence Jisung can’t put his finger on. It’s not haughtiness or pride. It’s more of this weightlessness that Jisung sees with older dancers, experience dripping off them in waves.

 

Jisung wonders just how old they all are.

 

He blinks, following the line of vamps down to where they spill out of the curtain. 

 

The air stops.

 

Jisung blinked, mouth open, eyes wide.

 

Chenle stares back at him.

 

__

 

_ (Jisung is eight when he meets a vampire for the first time. He’s ten when he realizes that not everybody likes them. He’s eleven when he realizes that whoever thinks that is stupid. _

 

_ He’s fifteen when he falls in love, with the tips of fangs that peak out behind a smile, with ocean eyes and forced breaths and pale fingers that worship his heart. He’s sixteen when he decides he needs nothing more than blankets on the rooftop and cuddles on the fire escape and hidden smiles in the lunchroom. _

 

_ He’s seventeen when Chenle breaks his heart, but it’s at eighteen that he realizes he’d do it all over again.) _

 

__

 

Jisung doesn’t remember anything from the conference. 

 

He blacked out during the whole thing, only getting up when Dr. Nakamoto hooked a hand under his arm and yanked him to his feet, looking more concerned than Jisung has ever seen him.

 

He fumbled for his phone, checking his notifs. There’s a single Insta message from an hour or so ago.

 

‘I’m sorry,’ it read.

 

Jisung felt his stomach turn to ice. He bones rattled, hollow and iced, and the water in his brain dripped into a slushie.

 

Jungwoo turned, confusion written all over his face. “Sung?” he asks.

 

Jisung flinched. It felt like his skin was vibrating out of this dimension.

 

Dr. Nakamoto took hold of his shoulders and steered him out of the room. They wove past press and through hallways until the two of them ended up in a bathroom in the east wing, door locked while Jisung just sits on the sink and shakes.

 

Dr. Nakamoto knelt in front of him, hands on Jisung’s. “What happened?” he asked.

 

Jisung shook his head. He felt numb. Cold. Dr. Nakamoto’s hands were warm, and a thought passed through his head that it should probably be the other way around, but he can’t bring himself to do anything about it.

 

“Did something trigger you?” the professor tried. “Is there anything you need me to do to help you down?”

 

Jisung mouthed out a no. He didn’t know if a sound came out or not.

 

“Do you need me to get anyone for you?” Dr. Nakamoto asked.

 

Renjun, probably. Or maybe Jeno. He was always a calming presence, even though he’d probably be more angry at Chenle than helpful towards jisung at this point. He tried a few times to find the words, but they caught on his teeth. It took almost five tries before Jisung finally found himself talking. 

 

“I wanna see Chenle.”

 

__

 

The man that opens the bathroom door is not, in fact, Chenle. 

 

“Thanks for coming,” Dr. Nakamoto says. “I know you’re busy with council things but I didn’t - I couldn’t -” He glanced back at Jisung, who’d started losing feeling in his fingers. “He’s a good kid. I don’t know how he knows Zhong, but…”

 

He trailed off. 

 

The vamp in front of him clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s ok, Yuta,” he said, all domesticity and dimples. “Sicheng and Taeil can hold down the fort while I’m gone, you know that more than I do.” 

 

He turned to look at Jisung, who couldn’t help but hold his stare despite the blackness creeping into the edges of his vision.

 

The vamp stepped away from Dr. Nakamoto, who locked the door and planted himself in the corner by the hand driers. He set one off accidentally, nearly hitting the ceiling with how hard he jumped.

 

“You’re Jisung, I’m going to assume,” he said, not even bothering to lower himself so Jisung could look him in the eye. He gestured to the sink Jisung had squeezed himself into. “That doesn’t seem awfully comfortable.”

 

“He doesn’t wanna see me?” Jisung said around the lumps in his mouth.

 

The vamps eyes went soft at that. “No, honey,” he said, something almost regretful rushing from his lips. “It’s not like that. He’s as much of a mess as you are. It was best that I came instead.”

 

Jisung just blinked. Oh.

 

“My name’s Kun. Can I help you?”

 

Jisung nodded.

 

Kun knelt down this time, grabbing Jisung’s wrist with one hand and his chin with the other. Then his eyes bled red and Jisung felt the cold start to drip from his fingers, almost like a leaky tap, and - oh, this was what it was like to be glamoured.

 

Off in the corner, Dr. Nakamoto growls a low ‘why didn’t I think of that?’ under his breath.

 

Jisung’s whole body seemed to relax, uncoiling from around itself. Something warm buzzed in the back of his throat, humming it’s way down his spine until he could feel his lungs bloom again. 

 

“Better?”

 

Jisung nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

 

Kun stepped back, smiling down at Jisung. “He talks about you a lot, you know. He’s missed you dearly, more than you can fathom.”

 

Jisung laughed at that, bitterness sliding down his tongue like poison.

 

“Everyone has a different way of dealing with things, hun,” Kun said. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’re floating on the same raft here. Meet with him. Talk. You’ve both changed. You’ve grown more as people. Show each other that.”

 

Jisung shifted uncomfortably on the sink. The spout was digging into his tailbone and it was actually starting to hurt a lot. “It didn’t work then,” he said. The utter despair in his voice surprised even himself. “We couldn’t do anything about it then. Why is it different now?”

 

Kun sighed. “There’s no harm in trying,” he said. “There’s more closure if you try. Less what-if’s that way.”

 

Jisung shrugged at that, finding purchase in the urinals behind Kun.

 

Kun sighed, stepping in front of Jisung’s sight again and giving him The Look. He must’ve been used to dealing with children,

 

“Look, kid,” he said, exhaustion slipping into his voice. “I’ve been doing this centuries longer than you. I know you humans feel this incessant need to fight and work for things that don’t suit you. Just know that, in situations like this, what’s meant to happen will happen.”

 

Kun just looked at him, as if seeing through the cage Jisung had tried to build around himself. “You can’t force anything,” he said, then he extended a hand. Jisung took it, hopping off the sink and rubbing at his back.

 

Kun ruffled his hair. “For what it’s worth,” he said. “I don’t think you’ll have to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my grammar is a mess and im still working in present tense because of 'falling slow in the pouring rain' so its probably gonna sound off at some places but i was commited to getting this out tonight. so here, have at it


End file.
